Finding Life

I’ve had a rough 24 hours.

The depression has been growing, filling up the empty spaces in the house like a slow creeping cloud of black.

It takes every bit of my physical strength and mental resolve to drag myself out of bed each morning. It requires equal effort to keep my eyes open for 12 hours. Until the clock strikes 8 and I can bury myself under the down comforter.

Yesterday, after a full day of appointments, Einstein decided to test my limits and bring me to the brink of madness and rage. These episodes with him are becoming more and more frequent. He speaks to me with the most direspectful tone. He sounds like a 13 year old, rather than an 8 year old. He rolls his eyes and looks at me with such a smartass expression that it makes me want to grab his cheeks and squeeze until his lips go numb and his eyes go wide with fear. When the priveleges get taken away for inappropriate behavior, the shit hits the fan. He literally screams his head off, full force, sometimes for an hour or more, only stopping to take a quick breath. He throws things, pounds on the doors and walls. He thrashes, destroying everything in his wake. It’s alarming and out-of-character and invokes anger from me like you wouldn’t believe. My buttons get pushed. I lose myself, I become my rage. I float above my body watching the scene play out, escalating with each word spoken too loud, too harshly. Verbal exchanges are ugly, spiteful…words that should never be spoken between mother and child.

The child is halfway responsible for ruining our family life. He demands so much energy, so much time. I have two other children who are suffering, who sit alone quietly trying to block out the screaming. Children who are missing their parents as their older brother sucks us all dry. I am not exaggerating when I say that B and I have had in-depth conversations about giving custody over to Einstein’s biological father.

I say Einstein is half responsible, because the other half certainly rests of the shoulders of my husband. When I called him last night, hysterical about Einstein’s animalistic behavior, he sucked down two drinks at the ferry and drove home. He walked in the door, tipsy and slurring and angry. He threatened Einstein with his belt. He sat him down and he droned on and on, speaking in circles, glaring and riling himself up and spitting out angry nonsense words. When he was finished, he warmed up the dinner he had missed and went straight to bed. I sat at the dining room table amongst caked on spaghetti plates and homework papers and piles of laundry and I felt myself hit rock bottom.

I can’t take it anymore. I can’t handle the ups and downs, the one step forward, two steps back. There is nothing I own, nothing I care about that means more to me right now than just getting OUT. I need a job and a room and my little boys. I need to find them again, find me again. Find Life.

5 Responses to “Finding Life”


  1. 1 jewel March 22, 2007 at 11:54 pm

    It is hard to say anything that could fix this. But I am here for you. You wanna send your kids away? Send them here. You wanna run away? Come here. You wanna call someone to yell and scream at. Call me. I swear hit me just do it.

  2. 2 O March 23, 2007 at 3:06 am

    I wish I could swallow your pain and make things better. I’m so sorry things are so hard right now. my love is so big for you, let me know if i can help.

  3. 3 Caitlin March 23, 2007 at 8:26 am

    Rachael… The way Einstein is, is EXACTLY how I was when I was little, ask my mom! I had serious anger issues, and required major attention when I wasn’t getting what I wanted! The best thing to do is not fall into th fight! Whenever I wanted to argue my mom just didn’t participate I would stomp on the stairs and slam doors… All I can say is he will grow out of it, and ask my mom for advice whatever she did worked on me! I love you!

  4. 4 antropologa March 24, 2007 at 3:16 pm

    I don’t know what I can say to help, but I am thinking about you and wish you well. Spring is coming–that should help, right? And give the dog a hug.

  5. 5 shan March 24, 2007 at 9:06 pm

    ugh.
    Does it help in at least a tiny way to know I have so been there? My oldest, who is now 16, sucked all of our energy for so many years. We, too, considered (well, I did anyway. DH was always against it) sending her to live with her dad. She made me feel like such a shitty mom so many times. I thought she hated me. Sometimes I still think that, but it’s getting better.

    I don’t have any concrete advice, sadly. My daughter always did better when I had time with just her. We’d go to a movie, lunch. She has been acting weird again, and I know she wants one on one with me. It’s hard to do one on one when you have three kids and a spouse, though. They all want their freaking one on one time.

    I’m sorry you’re so depressed. I’m sorry b is being such a pita.

    I’m taking a parenting class, and it seems like a lot of the stuff we talk about would have worked awesomely with my oldest. It’s based on Positive Discipline by Jane Nelson, and it’s not an “always be a nicey nice parent” kind of book. It just sounds like it would be that kind of a book.

    I am thinking of you! And I’m sorry this is such a long g-d comment!


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